Maneuvers at Rest
by asstrea
Summary: Actually from the CC timeline no options for posting there... —anyway, I took all the tension I was observing and brought it to a logical conclusion. Characters: Loran, Keith, Kihel, Dianna, Harry. I think it's really pretty.


Maneuvers at Rest

(___ Gundam_ Slash)

_Loran Cehack drifted away, again. Keith Laijie studied his smooth caramel skin, his slim hips. He tongued one round nipple, blew gently across it, watched it stiffen. Loran gave no reaction. Keith laid his head across Loran's chest; felt the rise and fall of his breathing. Today had been gorgeous, he thought. It had been almost two years since they'd arrived in Inglessa, and life 'til now had been far too busy to accommodate trysts like this. Keith and Loran had spent the day wrestling in the water; they caught fish and ate them, they made love. Now they lay nude, under a makeshift blanket and the stars, Loran transfixed by the moon._

"_The Earth is a wonderful place," he said. "Please come. Come soon."_

•••

On the Moon they'd been waiting for millennia to return home—the pilgrimage was an article of faith. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. No one on Earth remembered that humans had ever walked on the moon; that even now people lived upon its surface had been inconceivable to most Earthborn even a few weeks ago. Negotiations between the Earth and the moon had fallen through. Now Inglessa's capital, Nocis City, had been reduced to ash, along with it Keith's mentor Mr. Bond and his bakery. Dianna Counter, the moon's representatives on Earth were on the move, and Keith was steering his combustion-driven truck alongside. He peered over to the passenger seat, into Verlaine's round face. It hadn't been easy to convince her, but all people needed to eat and selling bread to hungry Moonrace settlers was the easiest way to stay alive and continue her father's legacy. Verlaine's children napped in the back seat.

•••

"We've a secret weapon now, Laura and the White Doll. Exactly the upper hand we need in the negotiations with Dianna Counter," Guin Lineford mused as he gazed out of the grand window of his baroque palace at Nocis. He looked as if he'd been born into a double-breasted suit, chest broad and jaw resolute. Dianna Counter's giant space-faring headquarters, the Soleil, loomed in the distance, a mountain of gossamer strands.

"Loran's his name—but you always call him Laura?" asked Kihel Heim, Sir Guin's personal secretary.

Guin gave a deep laugh. "You don't think it's more fitting?"

Kihel reflected for a moment. Loran was almost too beautiful to be a boy.

•••

"You noticed it too, didn't you Ms. Heim?" asked Dianna Soriel, Queen of the Moon.

The question didn't need answering­. From a distance, no—even so close they were almost kissing, Dianna and Kihel were indistinguishable. And then they were. Quickly, just a peck on the cheek and Dianna darted away. "Come with me," she giggled.

Kihel obeyed, and then reflected on just how… normal this felt. She was in the private chambers of a queen. A queen from the moon. All the stories she'd read as a little girl told her that she should be swooning, or dancing around; maybe singing. No, it wasn't normal that she felt, it was just-so. Belonging.

"Here, try these on."

"But milady—these are far too nice…" Kihel protested.

"They're the clothes I'm wearing to Sir Lineford's ball tonight. I just want to see how they look on."

Dianna watched curiously as Kihel began to pull at the ties of her dress. As the garment drew down her body, Dianna observed her graceful neck, alabaster skin, small breasts and rosy pink nipples; it was as if looking in a mirror. Kihel's eyes met her own, flashing embarrassment.

"Where should I put my clothes?" she asked.

Dianna stepped forward. "Just hand them to me." She moved in closer, pressing her lips to Kihel's. Again. Kihel's mouth parted, this time, allowing the queen's tongue inside. Dianna kissed down her neck, nibbled on her shoulders, pulled Kihel's naked form to her, caressed her back. Neither spoke, or needed to. It wasn't telepathy, just a body understanding itself—guiding fingertips, mouths, loins—and seemingly hours later as they lay, long legs intertwined and sweating on the floor, there wasn't anything to say.

•••

"Mme. Laura? May I have the pleasure?" Harry Ord was never comfortable at these formal gatherings, but as the queen's personal bodyguard he was duty-bound. The regality of his bearing, and his height helped mask his insecurity. His Lady Dianna was certain that Guin Lineford's ball would reinvigorate the stagnating peace negotiations between Dianna Counter and the Earth. An end to this bloodshed was in everyone's best interest. They'd all heard the Inglessan propaganda about the White Doll and her pilot, Laura.

Everything they knew about the Earth suggested they'd barely advanced beyond short-wave radio since the Dark History—horse-drawn carts were still a familiar sight in the streets of Nocis. That (impossible) mustached mobile suit was the first to defeat him in many years, and Harry was intrigued to meet the Earthling prodigy who could accomplish such a feat.

Laura laced an arm through his. Harry found it unexpectedly sinewy—though graceful. Her hair concealed much of her face, but Harry could see it was stunning; full lips, caramel complexion, large eyes. The orchestra began a waltz.

•••

Long blonde strands intermingled, eyes glazed, heartbeats (slowly) returning to normal… The matched pair glanced at their discarded clothes. Dianna rolled on top of Kihel, with a mischievous glint. "Do you think we should…"

Kihel flipped the position and pinned Dianna's arms to the ground. "Switch?" She kissed Dianna hard, her pert bottom in the air. "Let's."

•••

The castle was large, even with all the ball guests they had managed to find an unoccupied bedroom. This was moving quickly, thought Harry. Too quickly? Just as nimbly as he brushed the thought aside, he locked the bedroom door and pressed Laura against it. They kissed passionately, Laura's gloved fingers pulling at Harry's prematurely white hair. He drew his hand up the stockinged leg, up to where Laura's thighs met, finding Loran's beautiful cock. Loran froze.

And Harry dropped to his knees, leaning in to taste Laura/Loran's pre-cum. He drew a fingertip along the base of the organ, and then took it in his warm mouth, prodding Loran's anus with a moist index finger. Loran was overwhelmed with sensation. His legs began to quiver. He searched for the stays on Laura's expansive gown, trying to remove it. Harry looked up: "Keep it on."

On the bed, on his back, dress pulled up over his waist, Loran watched himself writhe in Harry's red reflective glasses as he slid in and out of Loran's asshole. He reached up to take the glasses off but Harry brushed his hand easily away.

"I want to see you," said Loran.

"Don't spoil the moment," said Harry, and came.

•••

Anyway. That night insurgents within the Earth Militia attempted to assassinate Dianna Soriel (Kihel Heim). Retaliation was swift. The aftermath destroyed Nocis City and made refugees of most Inglessans. And Keith became a damn fine baker, which is good because Dianna Counter didn't pack nearly enough food.

And so it goes.


End file.
